"Well, you see…" He paused. And once more, he took his gaze off of me, staring down at his glass of whiskey that sat on the counter before him.
There was a subtle expression that painted his face. Although that expression faded as soon as it appeared, like a secret no one was meant to discover. His lips curled at that moment, a bitter, very bitter smile stretching on them.
My left eyebrow was raised, my right hand clenching my glass tightly. I waited for him to gather his composure.
But Mangé didn't take his gaze off his glass; he just sat still, like he was a frozen frame. A very disgraceful sight to witness, if I must say so.
Then, he uttered something. I wondered if he thought that I heard him, because I was quite sure that no human could have heard the inaudible words he muttered under his breath.
My raised eyebrow furrowed, the other eyebrow joining it as my facial expression mutated, my curled lips forming an irritated sneer on my face.
"Speak up, Mangé," I uttered, cutting through the awkward silence that Mangé had left to swell in the empty room.
"I n—...." His voice was slightly audible this time. But just slightly, I couldn't hear the full contents of his speech.
"Mangé. Speak up. This is unlike you." As I said this, I let out an exhausted sigh that broke out from my lungs.
Mangé finally raised his head, his green eyes finding mine once again.
"I'm sorry," He said, taking a sip of his drink. "I just couldn't turn my gaze away from my reflection." He spoke softly; his voice was a bit higher than a whisper.
I didn't respond to his false apology. I just shook my head slightly, taking another sip of this whiskey that tasted bad, but still felt refreshing as it warmed my insides.
"What were you muttering to yourself?" I asked.
His eyes widened ever so slightly. Then, his forehead wrinkled as he furrowed his brows. It was not a frown, no. It was a firm, somewhat determined look. I recognized that look, that fiery light that shone in his green gaze.
The moment my gaze met his, the sight of his now mature, experienced face overlapped with the sight of his much younger, innocent face.
I saw the face of the boy that I had grown up with in the slums, the boy that, back then, knew nothing about the world, yet strived to survive. A boy who once walked with me down a dreary path of thievery and petty crime.
Now, that boy was no more. His slender, innocent face had been replaced by a grown, wary and subtly intimidating one that was perfectly chiseled and tempered to survive the stormy whirlpool that was the backlands.
But some things about him had never changed, even though his entire body physically did. And those things were, in fact, his eyes.
Those same eyes that shone with the light of conviction several years ago, those same eyes that I had grown used to, that had a light that I lost. They stared straight at me.
And at that very moment, I realized it. All my worries and assumptions were for nought. My friend, my best friend, Mangé, was still the same boy that I had grown up with. That had stuck with me like an annoying fly for years.
With this realization, a small chuckle escaped my lips, and my furrowed brows softened; the sneer on my face faded too. And I dropped my glass on the counter.
"I need you, Stella." He uttered. Just four words, yet those words held something… strong within them. Something that knew of and took advantage of the weak spot that I held for Mangé.
On his face, there was no sign of hesitation or the faint, self-hating frown that'd appear on one's face when they shamelessly uttered similar words that were as embarrassing as the ones he had spoken.
Instead, he seemed eager to hear my response.
Did he really just say that?
That chuckle that I let out a few seconds ago returned, but this time, it was louder. A laughter that echoed across the room.
I held my belly, my insides squeezed as I allowed the seemingly unending laughter to flush out of my mouth.
A small, tiny tear pricked in my eyes. I wiped it off, as the momentum with which the laughter erupted seemed to dwindle.
Then, my gaze that had been shaky and a bit blurry as I laughed finally regained clarity as I stared straight at Mangé, who had an utterly annoyed scowl plastered on his face.
His fists were balled up, clenching tightly like he could punch me at any moment. And honestly, that sight made the laughter that was calmly subsiding stir up once more. But I had to compose myself.
There should be a limit to how annoying one can be.
"Ahm!" I cleared my throat. It was much needed because my throat had been strained from that very sweet laughter. Then, I took my glass of whiskey and I downed it all, not bothering to sip it. "What is it you need me for?"
Mangé's jaw was clenched, and that annoyed expression on his face had worsened. I almost felt bad for the guy; he was too sensitive. But only 'almost'.
He let out a much-deserved, exhausted sigh, his face softening as he did, and his jaw unclenching.
"We're about to launch our first-ever raid on the Orned Gang. I… need you."
"Huh? 'First ever raid'? It hasn't been long since you became the leader of the Cyclo Gang? I thought Cyclo and Orned battled every other week. And.. also, you know I want nothing to do with gang activities, don't you?" My voice was slightly high as I spoke. It was on purpose. To dilute the silence of the room.
This might be a good opportunity for me. I came to ask him if the Orned Gang — the spiffian gang — had any backers that didn't reside in the backlands. And to also find a way to discover if the rest of the four major gangs have anything similar. Because I plan to curb the problem at the root.
But now that I know he's the leader of Cyclo Gang, I don't even know if it's a good thing for me or not. It'll be a good thing if his plans or goals aligned with mine, but if not, and if he became one of the four rulers of the backlands because of another reason that might have sprouted in his heart during the years we haven't seen each other, then it'll be bad.
Really bad. And things will also become much harder for me, because then I'll have to find another way to uncover the backers and supporters of all four major gangs, and I'll have to, with my own hands, crush the dreams of my dear friend.
But… I have faith in Mangé. He always had more interest in 'change' than I did. In fact, I had no interest in it at all.
"Yes, you're right. It hasn't been long since I became the leader of the Cyclo Gang. And that's exactly why I need you, Stel." He said, his voice sounded pleading. At that moment, he had put down his pride as one of the self-proclaimed leaders of the backlands and faced me with the eyes of a normal man.
With the eyes of a friend.
"Hmmmm." I hummed, holding my chin with my fingers as I pretended to ponder his proposal. "But I want to ask. How exactly did you even become the leader?"
Mangé's eyes sparked with the faint glow of surprise as I asked.
Then, he shook his head solemnly as he said, "It wasn't easy." His wet lips widened, forming a bold, obviously proud smile. "I worked my ass off day and night. For four years. Had to gain the favor of the former retired leader. The old man liked me very much and made me his successor. But, the twelve elders of our gang didn't really like his choice…" He paused, green eyes finding mine as if waiting for a signal to continue.
"Then?" I asked, pushing him to continue.
His smile widened more.
"They had appointed the one they deemed worthy of the position. And honestly, that guy was as hard-working as I am. And because of that, the entire Cyclo Gang was split into two factions. The faction that supported me, and the faction that supported the other guy."
Sounds like a really interesting drama.
"In the end, I convinced most of the people in his faction to join me with my…" He paused again, his smile changing to an annoying, really annoying and punchable smirk. "Charisma."
A vein bulged on my forehead.
Stupidly handsome bastard. But really, that sounds dangerous. The guys from the other faction might be spies or something.
I take it back, it isn't interesting. All this gang stuff really annoys me.
"So, naturally, I became the leader. But because of that, the gang is low on men, and most of our members — including the elders who were our main force as they were sparrows — followed that other guy, to start their own gang or something. And that's exactly why I need your help, Stel. I can't do this alone."
"Then don't! There's no reason for you to attack Orned, is there?"
"There actually is. They stole a really important key of mine. The key starts something that was given to me by the backers of our gang."
Backers? Bingo.
"Oh? Who are those said backers?" As I asked, I crossed my arms, leaning backward on my chair.
Mangé's lips hung mid-speech. Then, they curved into a sinister smirk.
He knows.
No, that's impossible.
"I can't tell you that." He said, taking a sip of his whiskey, his eyes still perfectly locked onto mine.
My lips widened.
I don't need him to know that that's what I came here for. Because it's obvious that I came to him for something. And it seems he's actively trying to find out what that thing is. So, I'll deviate from that. But I'll still find a way around it.
"Fine. But do you mean to tell me that, in the whole gang right now, there isn't anyone that can assist and make your 'raid' seamless? Or are you just doing a sentimental 'my friend will be there during my first time' nonsense?" I spoke, my smile widening as he leaned closer to me. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I strongly believe that said sentiment is stupid."
"I never said that." He retorted. "We have… one guy whose Til is of the elemental division. And he's rank 9, pushing 8. He'll soon enter the ranks of a sparrow. I just need to find more spows and get him to train more diligently. Although I have no idea how Elemental Til holders train. The guy's my trusted man. The one I sent to track you. He should be here soon. And, we also have Fero, who's learned how to shoot the plasma pistol from me, the best shooter in the backlands."
Aren't spows dangerous? Those.. potions are rumored to be crafted from people's souls.
"And you learned how to shoot from me." I shrugged.
"Don't get cocky. I might've learned from you, but I perfected my skills with my hard work, and my sight-enhancing Til." He, too, shrugged.
I let out a sigh.
"Aren't you tired of this?" I asked.
"Of what, if I may ask?" He replied with a question of his own, his smile widening.
"This verbal ping-pong?"
"Tell me what reason you came here, Stella." Mangé crossed his own arms, crossing his legs.
"And would you fulfill what I ask of you if I agree to join your raid?" I asked, unfolding my arms.
"What the hell do you think of me, Stel? We're friends! Besides, I'd do anything to get that brutish strength of yours by my side during my first raid. I believe that you alone are capable of wiping out at least half of the Orned Gang if you really want to."
Actually, I have, once in the past.
"Like that Red Nightmare guy?" I asked. A mischievous question, because obviously, I was the red nightmare. But he didn't know that.
"I don't know about that. The guy's a legend. Also, stop dodging the question. What the hell do you want?!" He suddenly yelled aloud like a madman.
And, the moment I opened my mouth to speak, the door creaked open.
Both Mangé and I turned our heads in the direction of the opening door.
"Ah." Mangé exclaimed. "It's the trusted man I've been telling you about."
Hm?